


Like Broken Glass and Wire

by connorwalshruinedmylife (shewantstoplayhearts)



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Original Character Death(s), Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 10:11:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11507247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewantstoplayhearts/pseuds/connorwalshruinedmylife
Summary: Don't know how to summarize this drabble... I wrote this in one go, so sorry for any mistakes. trigger warning for referenced death of a child.





	Like Broken Glass and Wire

It’s been four hundred and twelve days since Connor’s worst nightmare came true. Four hundred and twelve days since his entire world shattered.  
It’s been four hundred and eleven days since he’s had a proper conversation with his husband, and he hates the fact that their relationship was buried along with the coffin, another casualty of that awful day.  
He glances sideways at Oliver’s profile, notices how tense he looks, his jaw clenched and hands gripping the wheel. He sighs and turns his head to look out the window, watching as the scenery rolls by.  
“How much longer until we get there?” He already knows, had checked google maps to figure it out, but they haven’t spoken in over two hours and Connor can’t take the silence anymore.  
“Another three hours or so,” Oliver says softly. His eyes don’t leave the road and Connor briefly wonders if Oliver ever really looks at him anymore.  
Connor wants to keep talking, keep the conversation going for at least a little while longer, but his mind draws a blank when he tries to think of something to say. His heart aches to go back to a time when they’d stay up all night, never running out of things to say or learn about each other. Falling in love with Oliver had been the easiest thing Connor’s ever had to do. He tries not to think about the hardest thing.  
He closes his eyes and reclines his seat slightly, trying to get more comfortable. He must doze off, because the next thing he knows the car is swerving off the road and when he opens his eyes there’s smoke pouring from the engine.  
“What happened?”  
“Don’t know.” Oliver looks concerned. He climbs out of the car, and Connor follows suit. “There was a bang and suddenly the engine started smoking.”  
“Fuck. Do you need me to call Triple A?”  
“Nah, I’ll call them. You call and let the others know we’ll be late tonight.”  
Connor nods, dialing Asher’s number. There’s no answer, so he leaves a voicemail explaining the situation and apologizing for having to miss the rehearsal dinner.  
Oliver’s call ends a few minutes later, and he doesn’t look pleased when he turns to face Connor.  
“It’s gonna take them at least two hours to get out here.”  
“Great.” Connor looks around, seeing nothing but long, empty stretches of road and not a single building in sight. He spots one tree a few feet away that’s giving off decent shade, so he heads over to it and settles down into the grass beneath it. Oliver stands still for a moment, then slowly follows him and finds a spot to sit that’s fairly close to Connor, but far enough away that Connor can’t reach out and touch him. The distance between them feels like a fucking chasm.  
There was a time, years ago, before Lucas, where they would have filled the two hours by competing to see who could give the most blowjobs before the tow truck arrived. Oliver always said that Connor corrupted him, made him more daring when it came to sex. But now there’s only the two of them, and Connor hasn’t seen Oliver’s body in so long that he sometimes wonders if he’s misremembering the placement of the freckles on his chest.  
There was a time when they didn’t go more than half a day without saying “I love you” to each other. Now the only time Connor hears those words from Oliver’s lips is when he stops in the hallway, listening to Oliver crying on the small bed, hearing him whisper “I love you, Lucas” between his sobs.  
Oliver doesn’t know that Connor eavesdrops during those nights, doesn’t know that sometimes Connor’s heart feels like it’s breaking all over again, that all he wants to do is rush into the room he hasn’t entered in well over a year and hold Oliver until all of the pain goes away.  
He never does, because it’s his own fucking fault that their entire world was taken away from them.

 

They sit in silence for what feels like hours, but Connor’s phone shows it’s only been twenty minutes.  
“So, um,” Oliver’s voice startles Connor, who turns to look at him, but Oliver is staring at the ground in front of him. “I’ve been thinking, it might be time to start choosing which of Lucas’ things we’re going to keep and what we’re going to donate. My therapist says it’ll help us start the process of letting go.”  
“You want to get rid of his things?” Connor’s voice sounds strained, even to himself. “Why would you do that?”  
Oliver snorts derisively. “Oh come on. It’s not like you’ll even notice the difference. You never go in there.”  
“You think that because I can’t go in his room that I don’t care? It didn’t cross your mind that maybe it’s too painful for me to go in there?” Connor stands up, shaking with anger. “Fuck you, Oliver.”  
The other man leaps to his feet, his expression scathing as he glares at Connor.  
“No, fuck you, Connor. Fuck you for shutting everyone out, for shutting me out.” Connor can see tears forming in his husband’s eyes. “Fuck you for turning back into that self-absorbed asshole you were when we first started dating. You’re not the only one grieving.”  
Connor feels his own tears start to well up, and he swallows the lump in his throat as Oliver keeps yelling.  
“I needed you, Connor! I’ve fucking needed my husband so many times since that day, and you’re never there.”  
“I didn’t think you wanted me around.” He casts his eyes to the side, avoiding Oliver’s gaze. “I didn’t think I had a right to grieve with you.”  
“What the…” Oliver’s voice is incredulous. “Why the hell would you think that?”  
“Because it’s my fault he’s dead!” Connor shouts, his body trembling. “I’m the reason our son is gone. I’m the reason you cry yourself to sleep every night. It’s all my fucking fault. It’s my fault that we lost him, it’s my fucking fault that you don’t love me anymore.” He collapses on the ground, sobbing. It’s the first time he’s said those words out loud, and it’s opened a floodgate of tears. He braces himself, waits for Oliver to agree with him, to cuss him out, fuck, he wouldn’t even blame Oliver if he started hitting him.  
He feels the other man’s arms wrap around him. He opens his eyes slightly, sees through his tears that Oliver has knelt in front of him.  
“Connor.” Oliver’s voice sounds broken. “Oh my god, baby. I have never once blamed you for what happened. Have you really thought that, all this time? Why?”  
“What was I supposed to think? You shut me out as soon as we got home from the hospital.”  
“I wasn’t shutting you out, Connor, I swear. I was just so numb after seeing his body, and all I wanted to do was curl up on his bed while his pillows and sheets still held his scent. And then the next morning you hardly said two words to me, and I figured you just needed time to work through it by yourself. And well…here we are.”  
Connor looks up at him. “You didn’t say a word to me after we left the hospital. I thought you hated me. God knows I fucking hate myself.”  
“Oh sweetheart, no.” He wipes away the tear that’s making its way down Connor’s cheek, then cups his face gently in his hands. “It wasn’t your fault.”  
“I was the one driving. I didn’t stop in time. If I hadn’t been so slow, or if I’d just taken the regular way instead of trying that shortcut, none of this would have happened.”  
“You’re not the one who ran the red light.” Oliver takes a shuddering breath, and Connor realizes that he’s started crying too. “I’m so sorry I let you think that I blamed you.”  
“You were right, though. I shut you out and only cared about my own grief.”  
“But you didn’t.” Oliver says slowly, wiping his running nose on his sleeve. “You were there in the hallway on the nights it got too painful.”  
“You knew I was there?”  
“I got up one night to get something to drink,” Oliver admits, “It was the night after his funeral. You’d fallen asleep sitting there. I started paying attention to your footsteps in the hallway every night. On the hardest nights, they stopped outside the door.”  
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Connor sniffs.  
“I thought you didn’t want me to, that you’d shut me out and wanted to work through it all without me. I thought you’d open up one day and initiate a conversation about him, but you never did. And it made me so angry, knowing that you were struggling as much as I was but wouldn’t even try to open up to me. After a while I just started waiting for you to tell me you were leaving me. You’re the love of my life, Connor. Even on the days I resented you, I never once considered being the one to leave.”  
Connor lets out a strangled laugh, even though he knows none of this is the least bit funny. “I’ve spent the past year expecting to be served with divorce papers at any moment. Every time a courier brought over paperwork for Annalise, I braced myself in case it was our divorce papers. I once got so anxious that I ended up spilling my coffee onto Michaela’s lap.”  
“I bet she held that against you for a while.”  
“Oh, a good week at least. You know she’s the queen of holding grudges.”  
“No doubt about that,” Oliver moves to sit down properly, and Connor realizes they’ve both been kneeling the whole time. “I hope she isn’t too angry about us missing their rehearsal dinner. You were supposed to give a speech.”  
“Ugh, don’t remind me. It’s their fault for having a destination wedding.” He sits down across from Oliver, but the other man gives him a soft smile and reaches for his hand.  
“Come here.”  
Connor obliges, scooting over so he’s sitting beside his husband. Oliver wraps an arm around him, and Connor sinks into him, resting his head on Oliver’s shoulder. He’s missed this so much, missed his husband so damn much, and the feeling of being held by him again, after going so long without him overwhelms Connor, and he’s crying again before he can stop himself.  
“I miss him so much, Ollie.” He hasn’t used that nickname in a while. He hates how much time they’ve wasted, each thinking the other had fallen out of love. “He was just a baby. He never even made it to his first day of kindergarten. He never got to show off that Iron Man backpack he was so proud of. It’s so unfair.”  
“I miss him too.” Oliver takes a shuddering breath as he tries to control his own tears. “I miss him so much that sometimes I want to crawl out of my own skin to escape this feeling. I’d burn the whole world down if it meant that we could have him back for just one more day.”  
Connor smiles weakly. “He would have spent that entire day riding around on a fire engine, helping to douse the fires. You know how obsessed he was with becoming a fireman.”  
Oliver laughs. “Yeah, you’re right.”  
They fall silent, remembering their son and taking comfort in finally being in each other’s arms again.  
“I love you, sweetheart.” Oliver eventually breaks the silence, pressing a kiss to his temple. “We lost ourselves for a while there, but we’ll figure it out. I won’t lose you too.”  
Connor turns and presses a soft kiss against Oliver’s lips, savoring the taste he’s been missing for far too long.  
“Tell me about work.”  
Oliver snorts. “You don’t want to hear about that.”  
“I do,” Connor insists, even though they both know he gets bored of the IT talk quickly. “I want to hear every last detail of what’s been going on lately.”  
“Alright, you asked for it.”  
He starts telling Connor about some issue they’d dealt with the week before, and Connor shuts his eyes as he cuddles up close to him. The tow truck won’t be there for about another forty-five minutes, and Connor fully intends to spend that time getting reacquainted with his favorite voice. And later, when they finally make it to the hotel, he plans on spending a very, very long time refreshing his memory with every single inch of Oliver’s body.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr at lilafowlers


End file.
